Unexplained Endings
by Ca7lyTM
Summary: ""You're alive, Lisbon." He breathed into her hair, emotion thick in his voice." Because hes always going to save her, even if she doesn't want to be. Please leave a review and tell me what you think multi-chap
1. Prologue

Hi, I'm Carly. Welcome to my first fanfic!

Basically all you need to know is that Jane missed the plane in 6x22 and therefore Lisbon has been living in D.C. with Pike. This is just a little prologue to set the scene- Chapter 1 should be up tomorrow!

* * *

Unexplained Endings

Prologue~

The woman, probably between 35 to 43 years of age, had long dark hair that obscured her face. Silas White was glad about that; it was when he could see into the victims faces that he had trouble sleeping. He hated the job and he was honestly a good man but it was these jobs as opposed to his day job that put the food on the table for his family.

This job was different; he and his unnamed accomplice (unnamed for security reasons because you couldn't blab on someone you didn't know) were hauling the body to the murder site, rather than away from it and then they'd take the live victim away. Then the live woman would be taken to the higher-ups. He had no idea who either of the girls were but if he were to take a guess it would be that the dark-haired girl had done something to piss someone off and now she was going to pay for it.

They reached her and dumped the black body bag beside her. Silas would also have guessed that someone high up had switched the DNA samples of this girl and the body so that they could take the live one, no questions asked. The dead girl was probably what they would call a 'lowlife'. A prostitute or a runaway who no one would notice was gone. Out came the dead girl and they bundled the dark-haired one into the body bag.

After that he didn't think anymore; it would make for a sleepless night and dreams of her long curls and smattering of freckles.


	2. Chapter One

Thanks to Beth for reading it through and giving me feedback! ^_^

As soon as he'd worked out where she was he had jumped into his car- which was already loaded with spare clothes, fake passports and money- and shot off in search of her.

Of course, finding a "dead" person hadn't been easy. He'd spent a whole month working on it before he'd cracked it and that was without the time he'd wasted grieving for her before that.

Truth was, there were many mistakes made in faking her death. No one had seen her body, it was a closed casket funeral... And why would she have even been in that warehouse to begin with? It didn't add up.

He'd worked alone in finding her. The team, for the first time in 12 years, had let him down and he knew they thought he was going mad. Which, he supposed, was a fair assumption.

* * *

"This is it, Grace!" Jane had said, eyes wild and curls bouncing freely. He had thrust the funeral pictures at her excitedly. "This is the key. She still alive!"

Grace and the other two members of their old CBI team, Wayne Rigsby and Kimball Cho exchanged sympathetic looks. "Jane," she began gently. "It's just all circumstantial-"

"You think I'm crazy." Jane interrupted. "You all do!" He supposed that the fact he hadn't changed clothes in three days and smelt of alcohol didn't really help but he'd really thought they'd understand. He threw his photographs down on the ground and left, Grace following behind him. Rigsby stopped her.

"Just let him be, Grace".

* * *

He'd never felt so much joy in being right. Her death, it had crushed him. He hadn't seen her in months before they got the news, since she'd moved to D.C. really. He'd thought she had died thinking the same things she'd told him she felt before she left Blue Bird Inn and he hadn't had a chance to rectify that and tell her how he truly felt.

He couldn't believe how unbelievably stupid he had been that day. He'd set up an elaborate scheme to service her instead of just telling her how he felt and because of that he'd lost her.

Well, he wasn't about to lose her again.

* * *

Teresa Lisbon ran a hand through her messy curls and winced at the movement. Pulling up her oversized sleep shirt she winced at the slight of yellow-brown skin surrounding the 6 inch knife wound. She trailed her hand from her left hip, where the wound began, and up to the bruised skin of her ribs before turning slightly to see the healing skin of a second, not so deep wound on her back in the bathroom mirror. She sighed before redressing the wound and changing into jeans and a clean shirt.

She hauled the big travel bag out from underneath the bed and threw her little possessions into it, getting ready to leave. They were on her tail and so she needed to keep on the move until she hatched a plan.

The soft knock on her door interrupted her chain of thought. Her pulse kicked up, thoughts like "how have they found me already?" fluttering across her mind in panic. She quietly put the bag back on the bed and aimed all of her attention on the door, one hand resting on the butt of her gun that she'd tucked into the waistband of her jeans.

The knocking ceased and in its place came the telltale sounds of a lock being picked. Her gun was out in a millisecond and aimed at the door. She yelled "Hands in the air!" just as the intruder flung the door open.

The familiar curly-haired man did as she asked with a surprised look on his face that evolved into a wide smile just as she recognised him. "Jane?" She said and lowered her weapon with a shaky hand just as he lunged forwards to wrap her in a tight hug.

"You're alive, Lisbon." He breathed into her hair, emotion thick in his voice. She winced as his arm tightened around her waist, pushing against the wounds she had. He pulled back to look into he face, still keeping a hold of her. "You're alive!" She pushed him off, one hand fluttering over the stitches beneath her t-shirt and the other still clutching the gun. She noticed the worried expression he gave her torso and dropped her hand. He didn't need to know about them.

"Jane, what-what are you doing here?" She said, flustered.

"I came to find you of course." He stepped away and his eyes trailed around the room, taking in the damp walls and her packed bag on the bed. "I had an inkling that your death was faked."

"How?" She should have known better than to ask. Of course he knew.

"Closed casket. Wrong flowers." He mused. "Meh, it doesn't matter."

"It matters to me, Jane! You think I'd be playing dead if I wanted to be found?" She hissed, incredibly pissed off. Suddenly she remembered her anger at him and turned away, holding back tears. Damn him for coming back, when he knew how she felt about him.

"I know you need help, Teresa. And I'm the only help you're going to get." She hated him for that. He moved towards her again and gently took hold of the hem of her T-shirt, grabbing hold of her wrist when she tried to stop him. Her skin hummed at the contact and she closed her eyes, trying to regain control.

"Damn you, Jane. I don't need help. I've got it all under control."

"Doesn't look like it." He had whipped her shirt up a couple of centre metres to expose the bruised skin of her torso and the bandage covering the wound. He looked up at her to ask for permission before gently peeling the white fabric back to see the stark red wound tinged a yellowy colour around the stitches.

Lisbon had fell silent and was avoiding his gaze but she felt him tense as he saw what they'd done to her. He didn't move for a while, one hand still holding her wrist and the other holding her t-shirt up so she wasn't expecting it when he dropped her wrist and trailed a light finger parallel to where the cut was,careful not to hurt her, and up to her ribs where he caressed the bruised skin with his thumb. She tensed and suppressed a shiver at the soft touch so full of electricity. She pulled away roughly and pulled her top back down and turned again so he wouldn't see her blushing furiously.

"I have a pretty good guess at who did this to you." He told her, almost conversationally, although behind his calm persona he was seething. He paused before saying the name.

"Tommy Volker."


End file.
